


Blood Marriage

by TheSawisFamily



Series: Baby Fangs [1]
Category: Subspecies (1991)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Character Study, Established Relationship, F/M, Minor Character Death, Pregnancy, Vampires, ambiguous timeline, vampire pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSawisFamily/pseuds/TheSawisFamily
Summary: Michelle reflects on her fleeting memories of mortality and the revelation that she carries the heir to the Vladislas throne.
Relationships: Michelle Morgan/Radu Vladislas
Series: Baby Fangs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706281
Kudos: 6





	Blood Marriage

Night.

The moonlight signaled life while the sun threatened her fate. Even the first rays of dawn burned. The warmth of day now only a fleeting memory, Michelle remembered making the mistake of forgetting sunscreen on a beach trip. Angry flesh peeled on her back for days, but anything just to feel the heat again without the risk of self-immolation would be worth it. 

In her early childhood, Michelle, guided by her mother’s hand, braved the biting New York snow for Mass, which felt safe, comfortable with rosary beads clutched close and prayers chanted. Crosses now irritated her eyes, the blood of saints the drug of choice for the preternatural. Winters no longer meant drinking hot chocolate by the fireplace or being forced into wearing itchy layers. Most of all on cold nights, Michelle wished to be a child again back in the safe, familiar world with Rebecca by her side and sitting by the hearth for another one of Nonna's stories, the origin of her interest in folklore. 

Those times were over, though; Michelle knew she would have to accept this eventually, but not today, not yet. But even if she left Radu’s side, her family lived now only in her memories; only moments after their escape from Castle Vladislas, the embassy officer, Mel, swerved to miss a deer. No survivors. Michelle wondered if and how her mother accepted the loss of two children in tandem. One daughter—trying to protect her big sister from an unknown threat— died; the same fate presumed for Michelle.

Well, Michelle _was_ dead.

Infected with the blood of opposing brothers, Michelle Morgan, a dedicated student, daughter, human, died and resurrected in her place came Michelle the reluctant fledgling. For a vampire—a creature born into a world of little love and warmth—learning to survive on stealth, wisdom, and the hunt was essential. But she had been mortal once and knew of bonds existing between humans. 

Observing for prey, Michelle noticed the lost—the people with no home or families, the people who sold themselves—shivering in threadbare coats with skin paler than hers. Would it be fair to kill these people? To remove them from their agony—their lives of no joy, only sorrow?

She could never know who deserved to die, Radu told her, judging prey off her scale of morality could impede survival. Her aching fangs and racing mind battled whether to spare someone’s child or steal their vitality to prolong her existence.

With each passing night in Radu’s realm, Michelle's understanding of the mortal world lessened. Only a few years—her best estimate—separated her current form from her human incarnation, but already a new wave of pop culture existed; grunge won radio waves over hair metal, new slang replaced old terminology, slasher films waned in popularity, late-night joggers tuned out with some new device—it looked thinner than the Walkman she abandoned at the monastery. In Prejmer, the night festival ceased celebration after a rise of pierced jugulars on the dead; standard funeral rites in the village now included a combination of staking, decapitation, and upside down burial. 

How would humanity change in the next fifty years? Or a hundred? When would no living person remember her? What if she lived as long as Radu, the hybrid son of a sorceress and vampire king? 

Michelle’s stagnant body jerked with the reawakened surge of blood flowing in her veins, her heartbeat struggling to restart. No light entered the master chamber except for the orange glare of the distant fireplace, which irritated her readjusting eyes. Building pressure in her lungs reminded her to breathe again. Her atrophied muscles refused to unclench, paralyzing her. She craved a hot, sanguine drop of the Bloodstone to cure her sudden appetite; vampire sleep healed wounds, regenerated damaged limbs, negated all needs except hunger.

Michelle averted her peripheral vision to the inanimate Radu, willing him to her aid. Relief washed over her as his sallow face regained life. A grating groan fell from his throat as he rose. 

He turned and noticed her alertness. “The shadows await us, pretty one.” 

She didn’t reply—she couldn’t. Her wide eyes stared at him.

“Michelle?” 

The bed creaked in protest as he kneeled over her, his long, coarse hair brushing against her gelid skin, expression unreadable. Michelle looked away from his study.

He sighed and leaned out of her sight. She heard him shuffle then a soft thud. Now missing his long coat, Radu moved back and rolled up a shirt sleeve, exposing his papery skin.

“Did you not obtain enough sustenance from the hunt?”

She whimpered as another wave of pain tore through her.

“It is no matter.” Slipping one claw under her head, he positioned his wrist over her mouth. “Here, Michelle, drink your fill.” 

Shades of vermillion dancing before her eyes, the thudding of his heartbeat pounded in her ears. Seized by her lust for blood, she snatched his offering, her hungry fangs puncturing a jagged set into the thin flesh. Radu flinched. The icy, bitter elixir of his blood both attenuated and accelerated her thirst. Her lips formed a tight seal around the wound; a few droplets streamed down her chin. Searching fangs scraped against Radu's arm as he shuddered against her.

Michelle ceased feeding only after Radu tugged his arm from her grip. Her tongue lapped up the remnants smeared around her caked mouth; the front of her ivory dress stained with his blood. The feed ended the spasms and cravings; however, the large intake nauseated her, a dizzy sensation spun in her mind. Radu gently removed the hand which propped her head up with and stood off the bed, now clutching his bruised wrist with the claw. 

Words formed now, but her voice trembled. “I’m sorry. I never felt that hungry before.” She looked away from him. 

Radu placed his arms behind his back, his eyes studying her. “I have always said what is mine is yours.” He kissed her cold lips, tasting the familiar bitter tang of his own blood. Michelle remained still, silent.

“I shall procure this night’s prey alone. I fear you’re not well enough for the hunt,” he announced, removing himself from her once more. 

Limbs clammy, eyes stinging, throat burning with a dry cough, Michelle sprang up into a sitting position. She retched. More blood splattered against her already ruined garment. Her body rejected blood only once before— onto the concrete floor of the theatre, the blood of a man lost in the shadow of her other victims. 

Radu stared. Michelle curled into the fetal position, tucking her arm around her knees, a flush on her cheeks. 

“What’s wrong with me?” 

_I thought vampires didn’t get sick._

Instead of answering, Radu sat beside her, his elongated fingers combed through her dark waves. 

“I think I know.” He didn’t elaborate. “Let me try something.” 

His hand left her hair to roam down her chest further spreading the slick refuse; he stopped at her abdomen, his eyes narrowing. Michelle watched his silent focus. Satisfied with whatever he sought, Radu moved his hand off her stomach. 

She cocked her head. “What is it?” 

“My Michelle,” he paused, lips twisting into a smile, “you have pleased me most immensely.” 

His eyes dropped to her flat abdomen. “The Vladislas heir grows in your womb. Our progeny has made its presence known this night.”

“W-what,” she stuttered, “how can you tell?”

“Reach out with your senses. Feel the heart beating within you in the same rhythm as ours.” 

Following his instructions, Michelle’s concentrated. The swishing of her own blood swirled in her ears, her heart throbbed, finding its pattern after torpor, she heard a small, quiet matching beat. 

Her hands cupped her navel, “Oh, I can feel it!” 

“It seems the child allotted itself a portion of the hunt.” 

She still looked ill, but she smiled. A warm, unfamiliar emotion rolled through Radu; his consort carried his legacy. 

“Your bloodlust will multiply.” 

“Oh.” She looked to where her vampire baby rested, grin faltering. “I guess she needs to feed.”

Radu cocked an absent eyebrow. “She?”

“Just a feeling,” she paused, “you can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl?”

“I cannot.”

“Does it have to be a son? Or does the firstborn inherit everything?”

“I am only the fourth in my line so no set rule exists for successors.” Radu guessed her next question. “I would not discredit a daughter.” 

Michelle smiled. Radu might be a thousand years old tyrant, give or take, but at least he could be progressive. 

He turned to reclaim his coat, shrugging it over his arms, nails snagging in the fabric. 

“I must leave you to rest. I will procure tonight’s hunt.”

_Maybe he isn’t completely twenty-first century._

“Are you forcing me on bed rest?” 

Michelle detested killing, yet eighteen months—vampire gestation lasts twice as long due to death sleep—of being treated as an invalid didn’t appeal to her either. 

“You’re not well enough tonight, pretty one. Perhaps when you’ve recovered your strength, we shall hunt once more.”

“At least let me change out of this.” She gestured to her gown. 

“I will bring you a replacement.” He walked to a nearby chest and collected a slip. 

She sighed, taking the new dress. “I hope waking up isn’t always like this.”

“It should not last more than a few months.”

Michelle’s face fell. 

_Vampire morning (or evening) sickness would’ve made an interesting essay._

“I will search Mummy’s records for a remedy,” Radu amended. 

“Okay.”

Radu turned his back to her, looking at the fireplace. “You will be a great mother, Michelle.”

_Mama Michelle and Tată Radu, who would’ve thought?_

After Radu left, Michelle closed her eyes, imagining her Nosferatu baby—she could not picture him or her—who at birth would possess a set of blunt fangs, a bloodlust for his mother’s prior own kind, and an intolerance to the sun; would the child present with a miniature set of claws and a cadaver skull? As rare as vampiric pregnancies were, what if she conceived another child? Would another conflict over birthright ensue?

A tear threatened to roll; Michelle’s mother knew nothing of her status of grandma and never would. The child’s other grandmother, a demon, now rested in the Vladislas tomb, desecrated by her own son.

_“Y-your mother—“_

_“She threatened to destroy you. I simply hastened her journey.”_

Would the child growing in her womb someday slay his own parents? Steal the coveted Bloodstone and the throne? 

No, she decided. The child possessed the blood of a sorceress, but an admixture of Stefan and Rebecca’s essences ran through him. 

_Get it together, Shel._

Maybe she’d have a son who would never build a sandcastle or know his mother’s family, but under his father’s tutelage, he’d learn resilience—tools needed to hold the throne. Maybe she’d have a daughter who’d inherit the same toothy smile young Becky had; a princess who’d liven up the Prejmer bleak crypt, an undead childhood spent in a castle with an adoring father and nurturing mother. Michelle—with or without Radu’s approval—could instill an understanding of mortals to her children, tell them of the love she experienced in her own childhood; she could pass on traditions, tell the same tales as Nonna. Radu tutored her in languages— she held a decent understanding of Latin and could converse in Romanian—his perception of history; an oral lesson from Radu’s experiences would take the place of traditional education for the children. 

_Don’t get ahead of yourself. There’s just one baby._

Could it be twins? No, no. She and Radu heard a solo heartbeat. 

_Something light. Think something light._

Names. What to name the vampire prince or princess? 

_I imagine Radu would appreciate a Romanian name._

_Alexandra and Elena are cute. Lilliana for Lillian? Too bad Ceașeascu ruined Nicolae._

_Luminiţa is too obvious. Dominik for Radu Junior? Sorin?_

Sixteen more months to go before the birth of the new Vladislas. 

Her eyes shot open.

_Birth!_

**Author's Note:**

> I am extremely hesitant to post this. It's been a few years since I last wrote anything. Radu is one of my favorite characters ever, and I wanted to explore his world. I'm excited about Subspecies V, but I'm also nervous about what it will reveal. I prefer the idea that Radu was born a vampire, but slowly drifted into his evil ways. 
> 
> A major thanks goes out to those who have authored fanfictions for this franchise. Those works kept me motivated to continue writing. I hope I did both Radu and his fans proud. 
> 
> Michelle was hard to write. Her character dramatically differs from the original film to the sequels. When portrayed by the great Denice Duff, we never really see Michelle’s natural mannerisms since she's stressed out so much.


End file.
